


The Rest of Forever

by zoi_no_miko



Category: 24
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, Angst, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:28:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/zoi_no_miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Day 7, Jack and Tony struggle with the consequences of their choices and weigh what is really important. Follows "Time".</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rest of Forever

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own, lay claim to or make money from 24 or its characters. This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only.

**Jack**

 

When I woke up, it was an entirely different world. Not to most of the world, but to me.

The government had saved me. Said they needed my intel on events that had happened that day. They used the experimental procedure that I had refused, and it had worked. And it had taken what little I had left in this world from me.

For days, I did nothing but lay in a hospital bed. Sometimes I answered the questions of the endless stream of visitors, sometimes I ignored them. Sometimes I feigned sleep, just so that they'd go away. There was no reason to help. No reason to continue on.

On the fifth day, Chloe came to see me. I kept my eyes closed, pretended to sleep. Her brutal honesty was the last thing I wanted, the last thing I could handle.

True to form, she didn't seem to care that I was asleep. "Hi Jack. Hope you don't mind that I stopped by, 'cause I promised I would. We got what we needed on Wilson, you know. Tony helped us find Cara Boden's equipment, and I've been working real hard with Renee to break the encryption on her files so we can do voice matches and trace things to everyone else. I guess what you did at the end solved things after all."

I tried not to flinch at the mention of the name, at the overwhelming pain that it caused me. Whether or not she noticed, she kept talking. "I went to see him, the other day. There's a trial in two weeks, but he says he's just going to make a plea. I think he'll manage to avoid death penalty, what with helping us and all. Or at least, he started helping us after he found out you were still alive." She was silent for a moment, and I hoped that she'd leave, that she'd stop saying these words that hit me harder than anything else could right now, but I could feel her presence by the side of the bed, watching me. "Jack... Bill told me something, back before he died. Before we ran into you again. Said I might need to use it to pull you through, keep you focused. So I... I kind of understand what's going on. I know about... I know that you were close. You and Tony."

When I didn't reply, she heaved a sigh of aggravation. "Dammit, Jack, I know you're not sleeping. If you don't want to talk to me, fine. But he gave me a message for you. I'm leaving it here, please read it before you throw it away, ok?" I felt one of my hands lifted, felt a folded piece of paper slipped underneath, and then heard the slam of the door being closed hard as she left.

I opened my eyes, staring at the note in my fingers, feeling it all come back to me. The loss, the betrayal I'd felt that day. The hatred that I tried so hard to feel, and failed. Then I took a deep breath and unfolded it.

Achingly familiar handwriting, and just a few words.

_'Jack. I'm sorry. Love, Tony."_

I crumpled the paper as my fingers clenched around it in agony, clutched it to my chest and broke down. Sobbed for everything I'd lost, for everything I'd done, sobbed that Tony and I had ever been on opposing sides. For losing him, time and time again. For not being able to do anything to stop it.

For being without the last thing I loved, the last thing that mattered to me in this world.

~~~~~

 

Within three days, I was back on my feet, and in Allison Taylor's office. It was difficult, and I was still weak, but I had a deadline, and it couldn't wait for my full recuperation.

She smiled when she saw me, standing and extending a hand to clasp mine. "Mr. Bauer. Please allow me to express my deepest condolences for your loss, and my deepest apologies."

I clenched my jaw on a shudder, knowing that she had given the final authorization on the treatment, the final signature that had overruled my wishes. "Thank you."

"Please have a seat." She sat down and rested her elbows on the desk, interlacing her fingers, but I stayed standing, like a soldier, to remind her. She didn't remark on it though, and continued. "What can I do for you, Mr. Bauer?"

"Madam President." I lowered my head, keeping my hands clasped in front of me, tightening them on each other for courage. "I want you to understand that this is not my style, and I would not ask this of you under any other circumstances, or if I had any other options."

She watched me carefully, cautiously. "Jack, we've cleared you of all the charges the Senate lodged against you. This nation owes you a debt of gratitude, and unlike past presidents, I do not intend to let it be forgotten. Ask for what you need, and I will do my best to get it for you."

I closed my eyes for a moment, with a soft sigh, then raised my head, looking her in the eye. "Madam President. I need for you to pardon Tony Almeida."

She stared back at me for a moment, expression unchanging. Then she lowered her head, and I thought I saw a flash of shame in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I can't do that. He took it too far, Jack."

"He was trying to expose people who are traitors to this country."

"Who had not been tried in a court of law for their crimes. And it's purely his word that he had honorable intentions, Jack. We have no evidence to prove that he was trying to bring these people down. If we hadn't have interfered, he would have killed Wilson, and we'd have nothing. He was trying to execute them, and he tried to commit acts of terrorism to do so. We can't support vigilantism any more than acts of terrorism." She shook her head, and I sighed.

"I know. That's why I said I had no other option. Please, Madam President."

"Jack, he threatened thousands of innocent American citizens."

"I know."

"Then you know that there is no way that I can give you what you're asking me for."

I closed my eyes against her answer, hands aching from the tightness of my grip. "Madam President. I... " I swallowed hard, swallowed my pride. "I beg of you. Please."

"Jack... why?" My eyes darted to hers, and she continued. "Help me understand why this is so important to you. I understand he was a colleague and a friend, but you know as well as I do that he needs to face the consequences of his choices."

I felt my jaw tremble, and fought to keep my anger inside, fought to keep my voice calm. "Every time I have resolved a conflict, every time I have been a so-called hero for America, that success has been because of the people behind me, and Tony Almeida has stood behind me every step of the way, up until he was killed and left for dead by crooked government operatives. He has risked just as much, lost just as much, and done just as much if not more for this country than I have. If he's going to be locked up for treason and acts of terrorism, then you damn well should put me away too."

Her eyes searched my face carefully, and something about her suddenly made me think of David Palmer, something about her strength and quiet wisdom. But she was more intuitive than David, or at least more forward about it. "Jack. I know you're holding something back. You said yourself that he played you, betrayed you.Tell me the real reason why you're asking this of me."

I forced myself to unclasp my hands, slowly, wincing at the ache, at the angry red half-moon dents in my skin from my nails. "Madam President... when I first met with you, I told you that I would do everything within my power to bring the First Gentleman back safely to you. Your husband."

There was a sadness that crossed her face, and she nodded. "I am aware of that, and you have my deepest personal gratitude for that, on top of your greater service to America. Tell me what your point is."

"My point is...." I drew a deep, shuddering breath, steeling my courage. "My point is that I rescued your husband, Madam President. Please, please allow me to rescue mine."

Her eyebrows raised slightly, leaning forward in her chair, speaking carefully to avoid showing confusion. "I'm... sorry, Jack. Is this about Audrey Raines? Does Almeida have something to do with resolving her condition?" I turned away with a soft laugh, shaking my head, stomach tied in knots from the stress of all this. I dropped wearily into the chair by her desk with a sigh, to be damned with appearances.

When I didn't respond, President Taylor tried again. "If this is the case, I'll put every resource available to the United States at your disposal to... resolve the issue...."

I straightened, turning to look her straight in the eye. "Madam President, I do not have a wife, and I don't mean Audrey. I am referring to Tony Almeida."

To her credit, she didn't flinch, and the only tell of her shock was a barely discernible narrowing of her pupils. "I see," she said finally, slowly, then was silent again for a long moment. "I understand."

"Then you understand why you are my only option." I said simply, hearing my voice quiver despite my resolve, but in this case it seemed to help, and her face softened a little.

"Jack... I'm so very sorry. Getting you out of the senate hearings was one thing, you've been openly decorated numerous times as a hero of the nation, and you were never formally accused, Jack. Your First Gentleman - Mr. Almeida has none of that. I can't simply pardon a known terrorist. The very best I could do would be to quietly deport him, set the both of you up with a residence somewhere remote in an ally country in Europe. But I couldn't guarantee the safety of yourself or him if his enemies find out that he is not safely incarcerated."

I shook my head, choking back the wave of despair that washed over me. "No. No. I have spent almost seven years either hiding or believing he was dead. I will not spend the rest of my life running."

"Jack, I can't pardon him. I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. And even if I did, I can't guarantee his safety even then. We don't know if there are allies of Wilson's that have not yet been flushed out. He may be safest behind bars."

"No. I won't accept that. If Wilson still has supporters, he's no safer there. If he's free, I can protect him, and he can protect himself. Madam President, I beg of you." I raked a hand through my hair and drew a shuddering breath. "Please. I have nothing left in the world but him."

She lowered her head. "I'm so sorry for the loss of your daughter, Jack. I lost mine as well."

"Don't you mention Kim!" I shot, wrenching my head up to look at her. "You authorized the treatment that killed her, that saved me against my wishes. If I have to keep on living, at least give me a reason to do so!"

She was silent for a moment, watching me worriedly, and we both looked up when Ethan Kanin knocked on the door. "Madam President? The motorcade is waiting for you."

She gave a little nod, and stood. "I'll be there in a moment."

I stood respectfully with her, and she turned to me as Kanin shut the door. "I'll make you a deal, Mr. Bauer. I've seen you accomplish incredible things, things so out of the box that no one else would have thought of them. Come meet with me in three days. If you can come up with a way to make this happen without official or visible presidential support, I will give you access to whatever resources I have available. I'm just concerned about one thing, Jack...."

My mind was already moving, contemplating scenarios, weighing the risks and benefits of each idea, but I pulled my attention back to her. "Yes?"

She moved to stand in front of me, her eyes concerned. "My reports on the day indicated that you tortured him for information."

I felt my jaw clench, felt the sickening wave of guilt and regret that I'd felt every day since then pass through me. I didn't mention that, and I didn't mention that I was still unsure myself, whether I could trust him, whether I could be with him after everything he had done. But even with all that, I couldn't stop myself from loving him. "It was..." I managed, my voice hoarse, "...necessary."

"Are you so sure that he will want to go with you, if you do get him out, Jack?"

I straightened, looking her in the eye. "Regardless, I will take full responsibility for ensuring that he is not a threat to this country in any way, no matter what needs to be done." He wouldn't be, I knew. Not now that Wilson was taken care of. But she'd touched on the biggest fear I had - that he would never forgive me for everything I did to him.

She gave a little nod. "I know you will, Jack. Please set up a meeting with Mister Kanin before you leave. I'll see you soon."

I bowed my head a little, respectfully. "Thank you, Madam President. Very much."

~~~~~

 

This is how I ended up in the Federal Penitentiary a week and a half later, just before his court date, late in the day. Two guards to take me to an interrogation room to talk Mr. Almeida, and Chloe on com, hacking the cams and security systems. Minimal guard was all they needed for a prisoner who'd been surprisingly helpful and cooperative for the past few weeks.

He was already seated in the room when they unlocked the door to let me in, and the sight of him almost made my breath stop. I stayed standing, resting my hands lightly on the back of the chair, watching him for a long moment. I couldn't afford to let my emotion take full control. Not until I was sure.

"How's your hand?" I asked finally, a little awkwardly, and he chuckled softly, holding it up to show the still healing scar.

"It was clean, didn't hit anything too important, for the most part. You're a good shot, Jack. Though I'm a little surprised I didn't end up with a full clip in my chest like Nina."

"Yeah, well...." I glanced away, wondering a little at what he'd said myself. I'd been so angry with him that day, so hurt by what he'd done to me. But I still couldn't bring myself to shoot to kill, even in the same situation I had been in when I'd pumped Nina full of lead so many years ago. "You're not Nina."

He gave a little shrug, eyebrows quirking slightly, but didn't reply to that. "How are you doing?"

I gave a soft sigh. "I'm... all right. There's still some numbness in my fingers and toes, like I only half feel what I touch. But it's survivable."

"Good," he replied simply, and the word hung heavily in the air between us, both waiting for the other to break the silence with what we both knew needed to be said. Through my earpiece, I heard Chloe speak.

"Ok, Jack, I've got enough. The camera's looped, you can speak freely."

"Thanks," I told her with a little smile. "Going to go dark for a bit. I'll come back when I'm ready to go." I turned off my earpiece and watched him silently for a moment. "I got your note," I managed finally, and his eyes flicked to mine, trying to read me.

"Chloe said it got you out of bed," he replied slowly. "I figured you'd either come to talk, or come to kill me."

I shook my head with a soft laugh, looking away. "If I was able to kill you, I would have done it long ago. Tony... I need to know... a lot of things. Why you let Larry die. Why you turned again, why you...." I stopped, and sighed. "I know what you told me about Wilson...." He was silent, then glanced up at the camera, and I rolled my eyes. "They're off, Tony. There's no recording devices, I've taken care of this. This is between you and me. I need to know the truth."

He was silent for a long moment. "You want the truth, or what you'd like to hear?"

"The truth, of course. I will know if you're lying to me."

He gave a soft laugh. "You always did. I wasn't lying about Cardiff, either. The bit about cutting a deal with him, you knew that. It just made you realize I was lying about everything else, didn't it?"

I nodded slowly. "Did you kill Larry Moss?"

He glanced away, and I saw shame. "I wasn't the one that shot him. But... he would have survived if it wasn't for me."

I let my eyes closed to a wash of pain, of sorrow. "Why?"

"Because you were dying."

I stared at him, uncomprehending. "Tony... Larry had nothing to do with my being infected. You know that."

"I know. He was a casualty, and I wish to god he hadn't had to be. But I had to get to Wilson." When I didn't reply, he sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at me, letting me see him, read him like an open book. "Look, Jack. Michelle's death was never my leverage. I mean, it was part of it, but it's not how Emmerson kept me with him for so long. I was pissed at the government because of what they did to you, and when I started to find out more about who had actually been behind everything... I wanted to stop them, expose them if I could, or at the very least kill them with my own two hands. They took everything from me. Everything."

"So you were using me the whole time."

He closed his eyes, and shook his head slowly. "Not until you got sick."

I leaned forward, across the table, catching his face and forcing him to look at me. "Look me in the eye and say that."

Brown eyes met mine, blinking back tears, and he couldn't hide the shame of what he was saying. But it was the truth. "I didn't turn against you until they told me you were dying. I couldn't handle it, Jack. Not you. I couldn't just sit back and accept it like you could."

It was enough.

I let go of his face, straightening, turning away and trying to choke down emotion. There was so much I wanted to say, needed to say, about how angry I was, about how much he'd hurt me. About the incredible rage and anger that had fuelled what I thought were my last few hours to live. I'd done things, just like him, because of that desperation. Because of everything that had happened to us. We'd both become overzealous. We were still the same... we just went about it from different angles. But all those things would have to wait. I'd made up my mind, so I needed to act quickly.

I pulled the envelope I was carrying inside my jacket pocket, holding it out to him. "You know what this is. Lets go."

He stared at the envelope in my hands and sighed. "This again? I'm not running, Jack. And I'm sure as hell not letting you take the fall. You have enough on you already, and the President can't pardon you for everything, especially aiding and abetting terrorists."

I pushed it closer to him. "Take it. I'm not letting you go to jail again, and damn the consequences."

He leaned back in his chair, giving me a little sad smile. "I don't want to see that for you either. Besides..." His smile turned teasing, using humor to try and lighten the mood. "If I refuse, maybe you'll actually let me suck you off this time."

I shook my head slowly, dropping the envelope on the table. "I'll take you up on that some time in the future. But for now, you're running." I reached back under my coat to grab the pistol. "Even if I have to make you do it."

He froze, eyes moving down to the gun. "You won't shoot me Jack."

"I won't kill you," I clarified, "But I can shoot you somewhere else, and then we'll both have a lot to explain, won't we? Come on, Tony. Pick up the papers. Lets go." When he still didn't move, I stepped closer. "Dammit, Tony! Pick. Them. Up."

He closed his eyes, voice a harsh whisper. "I'm not going. We can't keep doing this, Jack. It's over."

I felt my jaw tighten, and blinked hard against the frustration, the helplessness. Then, without another word, I cocked the gun and turned it on myself, pressing the barrel to my temple, finger on the trigger.

He was on his feet instantly. "Jack! What the hell - "

"Don't move," I barked harshly, "Sit your ass back down."

"What are you doing?!"

"Torture," I replied, voice rough with emotion. "This is how it works, remember? If the subject doesn't crack, you threaten the people he cares about."

"Jack you can't fucking use yourself as leverage - "

"Of course I can. Or do you not care if I live or die?"

His brown eyes were agonized, darting between my face and my finger on the trigger. "Of course I care, dammit! When I heard you were infected... it changed everything for me! I couldn't even deal with just the idea of a world without you. You know I care."

"Do I? Really?" I choked back an incredulous laugh that was almost a sob. "Show me, because I really don't know, Tony. Not after everything that's happened. If you care, come with me."

He was growing a little more agitated, hands white where they sat pressed flat to the tabletop. "Put the gun down, Jack. Walk away from this. I'm not worth it."

"Why?" My hand was shaking now, and I fought to hold it steady. "Do you have any idea how much I've lost, Tony? How much I've given up? This isn't a threat, this is a consequence of your decision. You come with me, or I will hurt the one you claim to care about. Because I don't have anything else fucking left."

"You have Kim, you have your granddaughter...."

I closed my eyes against a wave of grief at his words, free hand clenching at the back of the chair, heard him calling my name. "Kim's dead, Tony," I forced between my teeth, saying the words I'd avoided since they'd told me, and it made it so much more final.

"... what? Oh god, Jack... how?"

"Saving me," I croaked, breath coming in quick gasps, trying to push down the tightness in my throat, the tears that burned my eyes. "Therapy for that damn bio agent. She saved me, but there were complications, and she...."

He stood, slowly, walking to me and lifting his hands to my face, cupping my cheek with one as he gently pulled the gun away from my temple, voice soft. "I'm so sorry, Jack...."

"I need you." I drew a few deep breaths, managing to calm myself a little. "I need you, and I've had to live with myself for five years knowing that I...." I stopped, and swallowed hard. "That I could have had you if I hadn't been so fucking stubborn and proud. I can't survive losing you again."

His brown eyes reflected my own agony. "I just don't want to hurt you again, Jack... it's all I seem to be able to do."

"Then don't make me be without you." I drew a shuddering breath, completely lost and broken in my vulnerability, not knowing how to do anything at this but plead. "Please, Tony."

He didn't move, fingers still warm against my face, which felt much better than I wanted at this moment. "Jack... have you thought this through? What we do when we get out of here, where we go?"

I gave a small nod. "It's worked out. I'll explain later."

He nodded slowly, voice soft. "I'll go with you, but...." He ignored my sign of relief and continued. "You and I have a lot to talk about, a lot to work through. I know you want me now, but if you can't forgive me for what I've done..."

"I know." I looked back at him seriously. "And if you decide that you can't forgive me, I'll deal with it then. Now please... we need to go."

Wordlessly he tucked the papers inside his jumpsuit. "Tell me what to do."

I ran a hand over my face, evoking discipline to calm myself, focus my mind. "Just follow me and be ready." I rapped lightly on the door to the holding room, reactivating my com as I did, speaking low. "Chloe? Are we a go?"

"I just initiated the loop for your area. You're clear to get to the utility closet. Let me know when you're there, I don't want to draw attention by looping too many cams at once."

"Understood." I indicated the door with a quick jerk of my head as the guard outside opened it, and we fell into step behind the two guards, my gun still drawn, trained on Tony. He could still read me, and was watching me carefully, waiting for my queue. I kept my eyes on the halls, but true to the arrangement, they were empty.

There was a janitorial closet at the end of the hall, small, but big enough for what we needed. I gave each of the guards a pointed glance, and Tony nodded. When I moved, he was like my shadow, taking the one nearest him in a sleeper hold, hand over his mouth to stop his cries, exactly as I brought the grip of my pistol down on the head of the other, who went out like a light. I caught him under his arms as he fell, dragging him toward the closet. "Get him over here."

It was a bit of a squeeze to get inside with them, pushing aside the hanging mops, and our elbows bumped more than once as we stripped off their uniforms, but we'd done far more than this in far more dangerous situations. I pulled the uniform on over my suit, I found the parcel we needed behind the bleach and opened it, tossing him the small electric shaver as he did up his own uniform. "Get rid of your goatee."

He gave a soft chuckle. "You're killing me, Jack."

"You can grow it back later." There were rolls of gauze in the pack; I'd been worried about taking out the guards, but since they were fine I stuffed wads into both their mouths, tying the gags in place before starting to tie their hands and ankles. "It looks good on you, by the way."

He smirked, quickly buzzing hair off, trading me the razor for a small box with a pair of tweezers, adhesive, and a thin sheet that looked a little like skin inside a vial of alcohol. "You know how to apply one of these? This one will get you past the thumbprint readers."

He nodded, uncapping the bottle of adhesive and coating his thumb with it before opening the vial and pulling it out with the tweezers, carefully pressing the thin appliance into place once the alcohol evaporated. "At least you've stopped cutting off people's thumbs."

It was almost too easy, getting out. But that was, I supposed, the advantage of the silent arrangements I'd made with President Taylor, rather than trying to do it on my own like I normally had to. It almost surprised me, how easy it was to just arrange a series of unfortunate coincidences that lead to optimal escape conditions.

I slipped behind the wheel of the car that had been left for us, knowing that the one I arrived in would be driven away as a diversion, by someone who knew nothing of what was going on. The trip afterwards involved four more such vehicle swaps in remote locations hidden from the traffic cams and, if Chloe's tampering had worked, satellites, the first of which had a change of clothes for Tony and a duffel in which we stowed the uniforms, ready to be destroyed later. Finally we reached the unremarkable tiny motel that matched the key card in the glove box of the last car. Parking under the eves, we slipped inside, and finally were alone.

On my headset, Chloe gave the all clear. "The agent just picked up your car from the facility, they haven't even found the guards yet, no-one knows that anything is wrong. We'll give them a tip if they haven't within the hour. Most of the satellites were re-deployed on the Port of Alexandria threat that Renee and I set up, the rest were easy to redirect during convenient times. Everything's ready for you two to come in on schedule, the car will be there in three hours."

I smiled. "Thanks Chloe. See you later."

I glanced over at Tony, who was watching me talk, and swallowed hard. Time to set things square. Time to decide if this would work.

~~~~~

 

**Tony**

 

I wasn't quite sure what was going through Jack's mind, as we quietly covered our trail. There was a lot that had been said before we left, and I knew it was just the tip of the iceberg. Part of me kept telling myself that it wouldn't, couldn't work out. Not after all I'd done. But I couldn't get the image out of my head of Jack holding the gun to his own head, and I knew that no matter what I had to do, I couldn't let that happen.

"Here is how things are going to work, if you're agreeable," Jack said after getting off com with Chole, crossing to close the curtains and turn on the lamp. "Our escort arrives in three hours. President Taylor has arranged things off the book to get us in with witness protection with the FBI...."

I raised an eyebrow. "Witness protection?"

"Partly to cover her own involvement," he replied, looking a little amused. "We're not sure if Wilson's people know of your part in everything, but we're assuming they will find out at some point. Don't want them coming after us."

"I'm not sure Witness Protection will help with that, Jack," I said, wondering why he was suddenly putting his trust in the institution.

"I know," he replied, and hesitated for a moment. "So once they're finished, we're cutting all contact, all records will be purged. Jack Bauer will die of a complication with the pathogen, and Tony Almeida will have an unfortunate accident behind bars. We'll be entirely on our own. And..." he regarded me seriously and gave a soft sigh. "It will involve facial reconstruction surgery."

I stared at him. "You're not serious."

He nodded slowly. "I am. It's the only way to be sure."

I perched on the edge of one of the queen sized beds, and he sat down across from me, watching me. "I guess it is," I replied with a sigh. "Jack... how many people know about this?

"For now, five and myself. Taylor, her chief of staff, Aaron Pierce, Renee and Chloe. The surgeon and his nurse will know as well, though none of the details, and that knowledge is classified as much or more than any matter of national security. All of our records will be altered - health, dental, fingerprints. It will be next to impossible to prove that we were ever who we are now."

"And if I refuse surgery?"

He looked a little hurt, but tried to hid it, glancing away. "Then you go back on trial, and I... disappear."

I nodded slowly, not wanting to think too much about what Jack disappearing would entail. "I see. Jack.. one we do this, there's no going back. You lose everything. Are you so certain that you can forgive what I've done that you're willing to throw your lot in with me permanently?"

He gave a little smile at my words, mirthless, and answered my question with one his own. "Why did you start helping Renee and Chloe with the Wilson investigation?"

I looked up at him evenly. "When you first caught me that day on the boat... I swore that no matter what happened I'd make it up to you, for hiding from you. Hurting you. When they told me you were infected, when I realized that I'd never be able to keep that vow... it changed everything. Made me think that vengeance was the only way out. So when I found out that you survived, that you were still alive, I guess I just figured I'd better keep that promise, after all the others that I've broken. Jack... you know that I'll go through with this with you. Anything you ask. Just... just don't ever talk about killing yourself again, please... I can't live in a world that doesn't have you." It was hard to admit my weakness, to say these things to his face, even though I'd made this apology a thousand times in my head, in almost every waking moment of every day.

He nodded slowly, and I could see that look in his eyes, the hurt, the helplessness that cut me down to the core. It was as if he lacked the ability to even try to put up any walls around me, and I realized how very weak he still was, both from the illness and his daughter's death.

"When I was..." he stopped, and I saw a shiver run through him. "When I thought I was dying... I asked this... this man, the Imam of a mosque we'd been to, to help me through it... and I realized that I could accept it, make peace with everything I'd done... everything but the 'what ifs' that have tortured me ever since I thought you died." He swallowed hard, struggled to speak. "I never should have let you out of my arms, right from the moment I realized I wanted you. And that realization has been killing me these past five years."

I felt my throat grow very tight, and tried to swallow away the lump. "Jack..."

"That was my vow," he continued softly, voice raw with emotion. "To change it all, if I could ever live my life again. I don't know if I can ever really accept what you've done, Tony. Or completely understand it. But I can't keep myself from - from what I feel. I can't lose you again. So I'll do whatever I can to forgive and forget it all if you can promise me you'll do the same. No more vengeance, Tony. Please."

I leaned out across the space between the two beds, reaching out slowly to gently press my palm to his cheek, wondering a little at the way he shivered against my hand. "What do I have to revenge now? Things would have been so different if you'd never been infected. But now I have you back, Jack. We have a second chance that neither of us ever dreamed possible. Everything else is behind me. I swear to you."

"Tony - " he started, voice breaking, and I moved to sit beside him, bring my other hand up to gently cup his face, trying to reassure myself that this was real, that he was real. Then I did what I'd been aching to since I saw him standing in front of me, pulling him to me and crushing that beautiful mouth against mine, wrapping my arms tightly around those broad shoulders and vowing that I'd never let go of him again.

He was trembling against me, as I was against him, returning my kisses almost fiercely, as if he could engrave the feel of me onto his lips with force alone. A pleading sweep of his tongue against my lips to let him taste me, and I yielded to him, tasting him back. The feel of him, his scent, the taste of his mouth, it was all so overwhelmingly Jack that I could hardly stand it. I kissed the tears on his cheeks with trembling lips, feeling the same wetness on mine, and pressed my face to his hair, letting him bury his face in my shoulder and holding him tight until the sobs that shook his body finally stopped. "I'm so sorry, Jack," I breathed, heart aching, and he drew back to kiss me softly, fingers running feather light over my face.

"I'm sorry, too," he murmured softly, then pulled back, wiping a hand over his face to put himself back together, silent for quite some time. Then he regarded me, brows furrowed just a little. "Tony?" his voice was soft, and I knew that what he was about to say was something I wouldn't like. Like when he'd asked David how he brought me back from the dead. I looked over at him, acknowledging his request with a little nod, and he continued. "I have to know something... what was Emerson to you?"

I looked down with a soft sigh. In younger years, the question would have brought a sudden twist of pain, of anger. But the truth was, I was a little bit numb to everything now, something that had helped me play my role for so long. An adopted survival tactic. "I've already told you that."

"I know what you've said," he replied, voice still carefully soft. "But I also know you. And I know that you don't react to someone like you reacted to him -just because-." His hand found my cheek, warm against my skin, and I could tell he was trying to be reassuring. "I won't be angry," he said softly, "And I won't blame you. I just need to know... if you loved him."

I closed my eyes, and now the twist of pain hit home. It seemed like such a simple, innocent question. How could Jack know how complicated the answer was? There was so much mixed into how I had felt for David - hatred and love and reliance and loyalty and fear, and so much pain. So much that sometimes it was easier to just give in and accept it, take from him what I could enjoy rather than fight it. I took a deep breath. "If I say no, you won't believe me. But yes isn't the truth either. I hated him, I've always hated him. But he gave me something when I had nothing, Jack. Something to fill the hole that Michelle...." I stopped, and took a deep breath. "The hole that you left behind."

Jack said nothing, his blue eyes sorrowful. "I see."

"You don't," I replied sharply, then forced myself to take another breath, to dampen the anger. "Let me put it as simply as I can. We were intimate, I was coerced. But I came to love him because of it, as much as I hated him for it. Because I needed it, and he provided. And that's why I feel so goddamn dirty."

I couldn't have handled pity in that moment, I couldn't have handled coddling. He knew that, and simply nodded, leaning in a little closer to rest his forehead against mine, fingers still stroking slowly through my short-cropped hair. "I understand," he said softly.

"Do you really?" I asked the question coming out more bitterly than I expected.

"No," he said softly, "But I understand betrayal. Love and betrayal. And I don't mean you." He looked a little troubled, then started to speak slowly, and it struck me that even now, he had a hard time opening up. "I was with Henderson."

The mention of the name made my stomach twist in agony, as shocked as I was. "You and Henderson?"

Jack gave a soft, bitter chuckle. "Don't act so surprised. I was young, and he was dazzling. Everything I wanted to be. Of course I let him fuck me, though I knew he never wanted anything more than that. I didn't even realize that I swung that way, before him... and maybe it was mostly hero worship, but part of it was love, regardless of how he felt. I think he did it to inspire loyalty more than anything else, you know. I'm surprised he didn't get to you."

"Maybe I wasn't his type," I replied dryly. "But you got to me."

Blue eyes regarded me seriously. "You were never about office politics, Tony."

"No? I always thought it was, at least at the beginning. After Henderson got booted and they put you in charge, you made sure I was third in command...."

"You were in line for it anyway - " he tried to interrupt, but I continued.

" - right after Nina."

"Fucking Nina." Jack frowned, a touch of the old hatred smoldering in his eyes. "That was political. Fucking her, I mean."

I shrugged. "I only fucked her because you did."

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "I had wondered about that." He regarded me for a long moment, eyes moving slowly over me, and gave me another admission. "It drove me crazy, you know. That you were with her. Even then."

"You went back to Teri...."

He lowered his eyes. "I know. But there was never a time when I didn't want you, Tony, even when I couldn't admit it to myself. It just grew into something much bigger than I'd ever expected."

I gave a soft chuckle under my breath... had it ever. "How long until they come for us?"

He glanced at the clock. "About two and a half hours."

I stared at the clock silently for a moment. "Gonna be weird. Seeing you with a new face." He nodded sharply, a little nervously, and I reached up to cup his cheek. "Should we take advantage of what time Jack and Tony have left?"

Jack drew a shuddering breath, pulling me closer and claiming my mouth in a wordless reply. Tasting me, hot and needy, and it made me think of the first time I'd kissed him, so long ago, when we'd first been caught up in the whirlwind of this all. "It's been so long," he replied, and the throaty growl of his voice sent a shuddering pulse of arousal straight to my cock. At least that would still be the same, the same cries of passion and whispers of love, even if everything else changed. The same body held against mine, the same hands tugging at my clothes, worshipping me so desperately, making me so damn hard.

I pulled him closer to me, breaking from his mouth with a soft groan and pressing my lips to the skin just under his ear. "Jack... if we're going to do this..."

He swallowed, and drew back with great effort, a little breathless, to look at me. "Yeah?"

I steeled my nerves, meeting his gaze evenly. "I want you to top."

His surprise was visible, but not negative. I felt his fingers stroke over the side of my face, and closed my eyes, leaning into them. "I'll do anything you want me to, you know that." he murmured softly, and I shivered at his words, at the tone of his voice, warm and protective and tender and promising all at the same time.

"Erase every trace of him from me," I managed to whisper, keeping my eyes closed, knowing I wouldn't have the strength to say this if I had to look him in the eye. It shamed me too much, the guilt of being untrue to Jack by being with another man, regardless of the circumstances. Shamed me more that I'd wanted it so badly from David, wanted it hard and rough, just so I could feel something, in those dark, desperate days when I had nothing else to live for. "Please, Jack...."

"Shhh," he breathed softly, and I felt his lips press to my jaw, slowly mapping my face with kisses, fingers ghosting over my features, down my neck, over my shoulders as if to memorize the feel of me. Slowly moving over my chest, undoing buttons one by one, and as he did, his lips moved down my throat, down my chest, slowly urging me back to lay under him. Halfway through, he seemed to loose patience, ripping my shirt the rest of the way open and falling on my skin hungrily with a soft groan, sucking and nipping at my nipples, hands stroking hungrily over my waist and hips, starting to tug at my belt. Suddenly he stopped, freezing and drawing back a little, one hand moving slowly to touch a fingertip to my chest.

I swallowed, lifting my head to look at him curiously. "Jack?"

It was just one scar, one among the many, tiny and white on my chest, just a little to the left. Quite unremarkable, not even noticeable unless you knew to look for it. But Jack knew well the origin. He pressed his lips softly, gently to it, almost reverently, trembling against me, voice a harsh whisper. "Tony...."

I drew him back up into my arms, with a sudden surge of need that was far more than just physical, a need he met with equal voracity, arching against me, hands tearing at the rest of my clothes as his mouth tore at mine. "I'm sorry," I gasped, trembling under the onslaught of emotion, his and my own, crashing together as our lips and tongues did, punctuated with sharp, desperate gasps for breath. Shirts and belts and pants and shorts were yanked out of the way, anything that would get between us, between his skin and mine, his heat igniting a blaze in mine that I hadn't felt since I'd died. "Oh god, Jack, I'm so sorry. I won't leave you again. I swear it."

I hadn't expected it to be like this, not with the five years between us, not with all that we'd done, and all that we'd done to hurt each other on the day when we finally reunited. I hadn't expected that the passion would survive, would overcome the hurt and betrayal. But maybe we needed this, to survive, to keep on going. And it was relieving that we still felt this, that what was between us had somehow withstood it all, come out unscathed, and I wasn't going to question it any more than that.

He kissed down my chest again, more frantically this time, not making any effort to mince around his aims, and I drew a sharp breath as his hand wrapped around the base of my aching cock, stroking me slow and firm as his mouth tore a path down my stomach to take the head of my cock in his mouth. I bucked up against him, a shuddering groan escaping my throat unbidden, and tried to push away the sudden, heartbreaking realization that his beautiful, perfectly shaped mouth would be different. But then his fingers slipped down between my thighs to stroke me right where I so badly wanted his cock to be, slick with lube I hadn't noticed he had, and I cried out breathlessly. "Oh god, Jack - !"

He worked his fingers in me slowly, patiently, first one, then another, and finally three. Slowly fucking me with them, stretching me, torturing me like I'd done so many times to him. It made me want to climb the walls, so desperate that I could have clawed my own skin off, and I begged him for it shamelessly, like I'd forced him to so often. "Dammit, Jack - please just fuck me... need you so goddamn bad!"

I almost whimpered at the feeling of loss as he pulled his fingers away and moved up, leaning down to kiss me, the desperation of his own desire more than apparent in the force of his mouth, the way he shuddered against me.

"Curl up on your side," he murmured, and I did so, pulling my top thigh up in front of me to support me and angle my hips toward him. He pressed up against my back, dropping trembling kisses over my neck and shoulders, stroking hungrily over my hip and sides. "God, Tony..."

"Please, Jack - " I whimpered, feeling almost delirious in the desperation of how much I needed him.

His lips placed a trembling kiss to the crook of my neck, and then I felt the head of his cock pressed against me, start to rock into me, so careful and tender. It was so different, so beautifully different than David had been. Not because David had been overly rough with me, not usually, but because I'd known it for what it was, known that it was for his pleasure, and that he took care of me only to further establish his dominance over me. He'd never loved me. Jack, on the other hand, was faintly trembling, whimpering softly with the need to keep control, and I loved him so much in that moment, so overwhelmingly that all the layers broke open and it felt like none of this had ever been, like it hadn't been almost five years, like it was just him and me and each other again, and the love we had always felt without speaking. "Oh god...!"

"Tony - !" he gasped again, and, knowing what a struggle this was for him, I rocked back against him slowly, pushing him deeper. He didn't need to be so worried about hurting me, but god, it felt good that he was. Slowly stretching around him, discomfort crawling spidery hot up my spine, but at the same time it felt so very amazing, I felt so damn alive, and I knew that it would only get better. I reached back to grab his hip, pulling him closer, gasping as the movement buried him in me completely. I held still for just that moment, taking in the feel of him, being one with him, feeling my muscles shudder and flutter around him as my body became accustomed to the penetration. Then I slowly rolled my hips back against him, groaning at the hot shudder of pleasure that overwhelmed the discomfort.

His fingers were almost painfully tight on my hip, holding me in place, then started to rock with me, just a little, just slowly, and I could hear, could feel his breath in sharp gasps against the back of my neck. "God, Tony," he groaned, and I bucked back against him with an answering moan of pleasure.

"Fuck, Jack... so good, please... more - !"

He took the hint, picking up the pace, thrusting harder, his hand slipping to pump my erection in time with the movement of our hips, kissing my neck and shoulder breathlessly, groaning against my skin. This is what I'd craved, what I'd secretly fantasized so many times over the past five years - being with him like this, his cock filling me, punishing me so deliciously for ever leaving him, hitting my sweet spot again and again as we fell into a hard, desperate rhythm. His fingers commanding my cock, voice rich in my ears as he cried out his pleasure, biting at my skin, marking me, making me gasp and whimper his name, entirely helpless under him. "Jack - !"

"Mine," he growled against my skin, punctuating the word with a hard thrust, the pleasure of his words combining with a hot shock of sensation as our bodies connected just right. His hand tightened just a little on my cock, voice breathless, breaking a little with emotion as he spoke. "You hear me - Tony? Mine. No one elses. Not ever again."

I bucked back against him helplessly, craving the overwhelming sensation, craving what I could feel him holding back. "Show me," I gasped helplessly, challenging him, and he pressed me almost onto my stomach, answering my demands without hesitation, driving hard and fast into me, breath in throaty cries with each thrust.

Jack's weight was perfect on top of me, perfect control, perfect domination, eclipsing every thought from my mind but him. And I was responding without thought, just instinct and raw need as the pleasure built uncontrollably fast, even as I gasped and begged for more, begged for him to use me, come hard inside me. His movements grew more erratic, all control completely stolen by my words and my cries and the pleasure of this, and suddenly he arched closer, lips pressed to the side of mine, tearing trembling kisses from me, gasping my name as he bucked tense and shuddered, spilling hot and slick inside me. His fingers didn't stop their movement, stroking, coaxing my body to join him in craved release, in the most intense rush of sensation, pounding hard through my nerves. "Jack - !"

My throat caught helplessly with each breath, shaking my body, and I didn't know if I was gasping or crying, just that I needed something, anything to relieve the ache of the incredible rush of emotion in me, the maelstrom of love and need and elation, the kind of bliss that I never thought I'd find again. I could hear my name on Jack's lips, concerned, and he moved to curl against me, arms tight around me, lips warm on my face. "God, are you all right?"

I managed to nod, swallowing hard, trying to control my gasps but not having much luck. "Just... just love you so. And I can't... I'm so sorry. So sorry, Jack."

"Shh..." his hand smoothing over my hair, pulling me closer regardless of the mess, tight against the warmth of his body. "Shh. I have you."

It was so simple, but somehow just what I needed, and I let my face rest against his shoulder. "Yeah. I... I'm always yours. Forever." I felt his lips press to my hair, and slowly calmed under the touch of his fingers, the warmth of him. "Thank you," I murmured softly, and he drew back to look at me, fingers moving from my back to cup my face, smiling softly.

"Thank you," he replied, even softer, and the emotion I saw in his face was more than he could have said in a thousand years - the tranquillity, relief, and the love that I'd been so afraid to lose. And that was really all that needed to be said.

We stayed curled together indulgently for a short time, simply enjoying the contact and intimacy after so long, lazy and languid after sex. I watched my fingers trace small patterns on his chest, over the scars that would shock anyone else, but I understood these. They didn't repulse me, only produce a soft hatred for the ones who had done this to him, a hatred that I firmly pushed away. The time for vengeance was over. "Hey, Jack...."

"Mmm?" He didn't move, but the fingers that were slowly moving up and down my spine paused for a moment.

"Just curious... you said President Taylor knows about this?"

"Yeah. Didn't think I could get you out on my own."

I pulled back enough to look at him, curious at his words. "How on earth did you get her to agree? I mean, I don't doubt you curried some pretty strong favor between what happened at the White House and saving her husband, but... somehow I doubt that's enough to get her to agree to let me go."

Jack glanced away, looking a little guilty. "It was a hard sell," he admitted, finally. "So... I told her I loved you."

I stared at him in incomprehensible shock for a few seconds. "You... what?"

"A bit more specifically, I told her that since I saved her husband for her, I would very much appreciate it if she would let me save mine." A soft chuckle. "Then she called you my First Gentleman."

I was still stuck at the beginning. "You... you told the President of the United States that you're... that you're...."

"In love with you," He supplied softly, watching me. "That you're the only thing in the world that matters to me. It bought her support."

I felt a soft sense of wonder stir somewhere inside me, unexpected, but not unwelcome, and let my fingertips smooth slowly over his face, brush his lips. "I guess it must be the truth, then."

A soft smile, and he kissed my fingertips. "I guess it must."

~~~~~

 

I won't ever say that the surgery was easy - having bone shaved and skin rearranged was hellish to recover from - but it was worth it. Harder was spending time away from Jack - or Nelson, as he was currently referred to - during the first phase of recuperation. It impressed me a little, how well planned out this whole escaped was. Hours after being picked up at the motel by Aaron Pierce, we were hidden safely inside a highly classified level of the FBI, armed with identification and back stories for the two men who were going into extreme witness protection. Layers upon layers of deceit, all designed to irradiate any association between us and our former selves. Even the doctors who worked on us had no idea about what was actually going on, and had been specifically chosen due to their lack of exposure to Jack's senate hearings.

Swathed in bandages a few days later, I was dozing when I heard the electronic lock to my room activate, and a familiar red haired agent enter. "Renee."

She nodded. We'd formed an uneasy, tentative truce, Renee and I. I knew she'd never completely forgive me for my part in Larry's death, and we didn't pretend otherwise. But my assistance with bringing down the people who were actually at the root of it all seemed to buy me enough favor for her not to strangle me with her own two hands, at least for Jack's sake, if nothing else. At least, I hoped that was the case.

"President Taylor is here to see you," she said simply, and left. I stared after her in surprise and confusion, until Aaron Pierce entered the room, followed immediately by the President herself.

"Madam President...." I tried to straighten, but she waved a hand, sitting on the chair beside the bed.

"Hello, Mr. Almeida." Her face was serious, even stern. "Or Mr. Guftasson, as they're pretending you were."

"So they tell me," I replied, and wet my lips. "I don't think you came here to wish me well, though."

"That is true." She sat back, watching me for a moment. "I want to make one thing very clear to you, Mr. Almeida. I may have lent unofficial assistance to this operation, but I want you to know that you are here for one reason, and one only, and that is that Jack loves you. You would be well to remember that."

I nodded. "Thank you, Madam President."

"There is one more thing." She nodded to Aaron, who opened the file he was carrying, taking out an X-ray of a skull that I recognized as my own and pinning it to the light board. There was a red circle on it, drawn around a very tiny white dot in the middle of the brain. "What you are looking at, Mr. Almeida, is a very specialized incendiary device with a remote detonator. We call it a Guardian Angel. If there is any attempt to remove it, or if it is detonated, and the device will cause a completely natural brain aneurysm, as well as completely eradicating itself."

I stared at it for a moment, pushing down the icy knot that was forming in my stomach. then nodded slowly. "I understand. And you hold the detonator?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. Let me put it this way... if you are ever more than three hundred miles from Jack, or if all activity in his brain stops for more than five minutes... so does yours."

I nodded again, contemplating this knowledge in silence for a few moments. "Does Jack know?"

"I'll leave that decision up to you," she replied simply. "Take care of him, Tony. He's done a lot for you."

I found myself giving a sigh of relief despite myself. "More than you know. And more than I can ever repay him for."

My reply seemed to satisfy her, for she smiled, and stood. "Good day, Mr. Almeida."

"Same to you, Madam President."

~~~~~

They kept Jack busy during his convalescence, or so they said. I was mostly isolated apart from a handful of work related visits from Renee, and a more than a few social visits from Chloe, who regularly brought me notes from Jack, signed with the first set of fake names they'd given us.

"Michael. Still playing 20 questions with the FBI. Food could be better. Miss you, Nelson."

Usually just a few words scrawled, but sometimes longer, and sometimes decidedly salacious, which made me very much wish I had a couple charges of C4 to blow a hole in the bloody door. I was still under observation, under lock and key, I knew, though they were nice enough not to specifically say it. It made sense not to trust me, with so much sensitive material around. I didn't blame them.

It wouldn't have been bad if I didn't miss Jack so goddamn much. After being so long without him, it was torture to let him out of my sight, and part of me was terrified that he'd be whisked off somewhere, kidnapped by some terrorist or needed to save the city from some bomb.

Finally I received word that we would be moved at last, and was taken to a holding room to wait for Jack. I was mostly healed, and had spent a few hours trying to accustom myself to the new look - they'd lessened my heavyset brows, changed the set of my jaw, my nose, and strangely enough, my hairline - changed me enough that facial recognition software wouldn't tie me to Tony Almeida. But there was still enough me in it that I thought I could live with it. I studied my background story, my new name - Johnathan Walker, like a goddamn bottle of whiskey, studied the strange Canadian passport they'd given me with my new face on it. I even talked to the shrink, or at least gave him some lip service. I'd been undercover so many times that I knew I'd have no issues with this new identity.

I'd been waiting in a holding room for about 20 minutes when the man with the short dark hair entered, and I stood slowly, regarding him carefully. The way he walked, the way he held himself was right, and the eyes gave it away instantly - no one but him could have such amazing blue eyes. There were still other things about his features that said "Jack", the longer I looked at him, even though he looked at least ten years younger than I'd expected. His mouth, which gave me the most delicious thrill of relief, hadn't been touched, though they hadn't done anything to mine, either, so I shouldn't have been so surprised. He'd been examining me as closely as I was him, and soon as he spoke, there was no doubt. "Hey, stranger."

Somehow I couldn't reply, just staring at him mutely, unbelieving, almost forgetting to breathe. "Hey..." I managed. "Took you long enough."

He smiled and gave a soft laugh under his breath, and that was the same, too. "Sorry. There was a bit more to finish up than we thought... we took care of things, though."

I nodded. "Yeah... Chloe told me." I inclined my head towards the table. "Sit? We still have a bit to wait for our ride, or so they say."

He nodded, and I shut the door behind him, before sitting down in the chair I'd just vacated him, still watching him, a little wonderingly. "Jack..."

He glanced back to give me a stern look. "Ben."

"Yeah. Sorry, it's going to take some getting used to. You guys really got everyone who was working with Wilson?"

He smiled, and nodded slowly. "Just took a bit of care to work out the smaller elements once we nailed down the big fish. Wouldn't have been able to do it without Boden's material." He glanced up at the camera, then manoeuvred to stand between it and me, using the blind spot created by his body to reach down and cup my face, fingers tracing my features. "I missed you, Tony," he murmured softly, and something in his eyes spoke of the ache of loneliness.

I reached up to slip my hand into his, returning his earlier mock-sternness. "Johnathan."

"Right." A chuckle, low and rich and throaty that threatened to distract me entirely from anything else.

"I missed you too," I replied, just as softly, and squeezed his hand lightly, just looking at him for a long moment, searching his eyes, voice low. "Look... I gotta tell you something. Not sure you're going to like it."

His eyebrows knit together a little, but he nodded, pulling the other chair around to sit beside mine and perching on the edge of it, not letting go of my hand. "I'm listening."

I wet my lips. "Taylor came to see me, when we were still recuperating. During the surgery... there was a small device implanted in my brain, she called it a Guardian Angel."

Jack's blue eyes narrowed slightly, voice suddenly tight. "Explodes and kills you if it's triggered?"

"... yeah."

He was angrier now, face white. "Dammit. Who has the trigger? White house? FBI?"

I wet my lips. "You do." I ran my fingertips up to his forehead, and tapped the center gently. "So don't go dying on me, ok? Or taking any long distance vacations without me either, I guess."

His lips parted slightly, looking a little stricken. "I'm so sorry, To... love."

I smiled, and gave my head a little shake. "If those are the terms of my freedom, I'll take them in an instant. Could be much worse than being stuck with you." I gave him a teasing smile, and he relaxed slowly, and nodded.

"They're going to take us up across the boarder at Niagra Falls," he said, with a little smile. "After that, where we go is up to us."

I smirked. "Niagra Falls? Going to get married by Elvis?"

He laughed, and patted my hand. "Well, it was either Canada or Mexico, and I hope you'll forgive me but I've seen far too much of Mexico already."

I shook my head, smiling, wondering a little at how at ease he seemed to be. "It's fine, Ja... dammit. Not used to the name change." It was true - we'd had common enough names before that going undercover didn't usually require a change. "The shrink suggested using pet names, you know."

Jack glanced over at me, quirking an eyebrow. "You are not calling me Pookie."

I cracked up, more from the shock of it than anything else. "I never said anything of the sort! ...muffin."

"Stop that." He was chuckling as well now, and I squeezed his hand lightly.

"... how about 'love'?"

He looked down at our joined hands, and nodded, a smile playing about the corners of his mouth. "I think I can deal with that."

~~~~~

For a few weeks, we just travelled, staying in this or that city in out of the way little motels, seeing what there was to see. Motels were familiar, even if the lifestyle wasn't. But it was time with Jack, and I found myself remembering how nice it had been to be out of the business, back so long ago. How nice it was to be out of it now, with him.

Our first night out, Pierce dropped us off at a cheesy love motel in Niagra Falls - probably Chloe's idea of one last joke, I thought with a little smile, following Jack inside with our luggage. "She had to pick the jungle theme."

Jack chuckled, tossing his bag on the second bed and flopping down on the first with a sigh. "This is nothing, you should have seen where I ended up staying one time when I was working in Japan."

I stretched out my side on the bed next to him, propped up on an elbow, running my fingers through his hair. "Think you'll ever go back to blonde?"

"Maybe... in a couple years, when the world has had a little bit of time to forget about us." He turned suddenly, to mirror my position, stroking his other hand slowly up over my chest and shoulder. "Past few weeks have been very long," he murmured softly, and I leaned in to kiss him warmly, making a soft noise in agreement as he arched closer to me.

"Have all the time in the world to make up for it," I replied softly, letting myself indulge in the familiar scent of him, and moved to trace hot kisses down his neck, starting to tug the buttons of his shirt undone, tracing the line of his collarbone with my mouth. "Forever and forever...."

I heard his breath hitch, felt his fingers tangle in my hair. "Lets start now," he murmured huskily, which, as it always did, drove me crazy. I nipped lightly at his collarbone, smiling against his skin as he shivered a little under me for it, and I cooperated as he tugged my shirt up and off over my head, and pushed his own shirt off his shoulders. The scars I'd seen before had been greatly reduced, but I still moved to kiss them, covering the skin with slow, warm laps of my tongue as I pressed him onto his back under me, hips rocking slowly against his. It was more languid, I reflected, then when we'd started, when sex had been frantic and fumbled and hasty. But it was no less intense, no less passionate, kissing and teasing his chest with my mouth and hands, feeling him gasp and writhe under me in pleasure.

"Tony..." he groaned, and I pushed myself up to look at him, pressing a finger to his lips, and he looked a little sheepish. "Love..." a soft breath. "I haven't... I haven't done this since... since you died. Been... fucked, I mean...."

I found myself smiling, and leaned down to kiss him, slow and deep and thorough. "Well, I haven't fucked another man since then either, so hopefully you won't notice how rusty I am."

He drew back a little. "... really?"

I shrugged. "Didn't want to. Had a couple women because of the job, but...."

He pulled me back to his mouth, more demanding now, as if the revelation had brought with it a greater sense of urgency. Hips rocking up against mine, grinding his thigh against my erection, making me gasp and buck against him. "God, Jack - oh, dammit."

Jack laughed against my mouth and I joined after a moment, laughter that dissolved into breathless kisses, his hands tugging my jeans undone, teasing me through my boxers. "Going to take some work, isn't it."

I smirked, leaning down to flick my tongue against his nipple, yanking open his slacks, slipping my hand inside to stroke him. "Maybe I should just do something else to keep my mouth occupied," I murmured, kissing down his midline slowly, yanking his pants down more and wrapping my lips around head of his cock.

In the end, Jack proved more disciplined than I, though I rather hoped I could make him misbehave again, covering his erection in long, slow laps of my tongue, teasing and pleasuring in ways I knew well would make him shiver and gasp, moving my mouth on him. It drew little helpless whimpers from him, but he managed not to speak, even when I took him deep into my throat, working my tongue against him. Not even when I carefully eased my fingers into him, wet and slick, fucking him slowly. Not even when he bucked and cried under me as my fingertips brushed his prostate, as his whole body shuddered under me, not even as he begged. "Dammit - please, love... need you - !"

Just like he'd always been - always and forever my Jack. Pulling me down into his kisses, legs up around my waist, grinding up against my cock like an addict, like he couldn't live without it. I could never resist Jack, of course, especially not when he was like this, wild and wanton, hair tousled and skin streaked with sweat, voice in throaty groans of pleasure. So I didn't try and stretch this out - we had plenty of time for that later - just pressed into him, deep into that firm ass, claiming the intimacy that I'd craved for so long.

It had been a long time, I could tell by the way Jack shuddered and clenched around me, bottom lip between his teeth, could tell by how very hot and tight he was, and I eased in carefully, picking up the pace a little as he relaxed, as he rocked against me. I let my words come in a groan, rocking slowly deeper. "God... you're so damn tight...."

He chuckled, breathless, legs tightening around me, trying to encourage more. "You going to talk, or fuck?"

I laughed as well, smiling at the long familiar mannerisms, at the Jack I remembered so well. I gave a hard thrust to answer his question, a thrill running through me as he cried out in pleasure, heels pressed hard to the small of my back to pull me closer. I leaned into him more, pressing his legs almost to his chest to answer his pleas for deeper penetration, leaning in to kiss his neck hungrily, losing myself in the scent of sweat and desire, sex and cologne and Jack. I let myself taste him, sucking at his skin, biting none too gently at the muscle at the crook of his neck, feeling him shudder and gasp, bucking up against me.

"Oh fuck, Tony -!"

This time he did cry out, gasping my name helplessly, but I let it slide, too caught up in our passion to care, in the hot shocks of sensation that raced up my spine with every thrust. I caught his mouth with a breathless groan, stealing his cries with my kisses, feeling almost delirious with the bliss of being one with him again. Pressing a hand between us, I began to pump his cock in rhythm with our bodies, drunk on the sound of his pleasure. It seemed to be too much for him, his fingers clenching almost painfully hard at my back as he bucked hard against me, tightening and shuddering around me as sensation crested and he was pulled to climax, quickly pulling me along with him into the most blissful, long-craved oblivion and ecstasy.

I kept tight to him, pressing my face to his hair as I tried to come back to myself, but very much wanting to stay in that moment forever, wrapped in his arms and the scent of his skin, nerves tingling in satisfaction.

"Love you, Jack," I whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of his ear.

His arms tightened around me ever so slightly, breath in a soft, sated sigh. "Thank you, love." He murmured, and for the first time in a very long time, it felt like everything was going right.

~~~~~


End file.
